


fast car

by aubadezayn



Series: poor!steve and bucky [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: "poverty" parallel fic, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, New York City, Poverty, Roadtrips, Starbucks, construction worker!bucky, service worker!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubadezayn/pseuds/aubadezayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on the song "fast car" u should listen to it.</p><p>partially inspired by the fluff queen <a href="http://apiaristcas.tumblr.com">apiaristcas</a></p><p>steve and bucky are poor workers in new york city, who barely have any time to be together because of their jobs. steve calls out from work, and they spend the day together not worrying about money (even though they probably should), and happy. there's also "it's been months" sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fast car

**Author's Note:**

> this has not been beta-ed.

“Mmm, I gotta go to work.” Steve protests, shoving at Bucky’s grabby hands and getting tangled up in their bed sheets _again_.

 

“Nuh uh, call in.” Bucky shakes his head, kissing Steve lightly on the lips. A huge grin breaks the tired lines of his cheeks, and he nudges Steve’s nose gently. “Come on.”

 

“You gonna call Verizon when we’re short on the bill?” Steve teases, a grin building up on his own dopey face as he lets himself be dragged back under Bucky. He doesn’t even have his shoes on yet, and the bus would be coming in less than 5 minutes – down the street, a 10-minute walk away at least.

 

“Nah, but I’ll call the power company.” Bucky laughs, the sound completely incongruent with the statement it followed. Their power was almost always late, so much so that now they continuously paid the prior month’s bills and called it a success, even as the new month’s bill rolled in. Till one of them hit the lottery, all the bills would be past due, that’s just how it is. Bucky lays down on top of Steve, propping up enough that he doesn’t crush Steve under him, but their chests are still tightly pressed.

 

“What will be my excuse?” Steve grins wryly, already reaching for his phone on the side table. An iPhone 4, from approximately the Middle Ages, but still far classier than anything their budget could really afford. Bucky laughs, and presses a series of lingering soft kisses to Steve’s neck.

 

“How about smallpox?” Bucky pecks Steve’s chin, before kissing him on the mouth.

 

“What will she say when I show up miraculously cured tomorrow?” Steve chuckles, pulling back but running his hands through Bucky’s hair. He lays a long, wet kiss on Bucky’s cheek and Bucky gives him a halfhearted noogie in return.

 

“It was God’s will.” He says falsely serious, a smile tugging at the straight line of his lips immediately. To outsiders, they’d look ridiculous with big cheesy grins on their faces while the bills pile up and the apartment literally falls apart around them. To them, though, it’s another day of finding the light in life even when there isn’t much.

 

Steve nods solemnly, and dials his manager’s number. Sherry would be in already, setting out straws and lids for the Slurpee machines and logging onto the cash registers. A 7-11 wasn’t exactly Steve’s dream job, but Sherry was nice, and the pay was okay, and he got free food – if Sherry was working, not the other asshole manager Lance who takes the job too seriously. The phone rings and rings, and Steve can already tell this isn’t going to be believable because Bucky’s giggling against his chest and like a kneejerk, he wants to laugh too.

 

“Hello, 7-11 on Broadway and 107th, manager speaking.” Sherry’s croaky southern accent rattles through the speaker phone finally, and Steve has to cover Bucky’s mouth with his hand to muffle the laughter.

 

Steve’s voice slips into a shadow of his normal voice, a little shaky, a little sore, just sick enough to be believable without being too dramatic. Bucky rolls off of him, and smothers the giggles in his pillow. He can never take this seriously, not since the time Steve got nervous and panicked telling Sherry he had an erection that lasted longer than four hours. It had nearly killed Bucky from laughter, but Sherry hadn’t seemed surprised at all and went on a five-minute spiel about how Viagra killed her third cousin.

 

“Hey, Sherry.” He says, strong enough that her bad ear will still here him but shaky enough that he still sounds sick. “I don’t think I can come in today.” Always say you’re not sure, act like you _want_ to come in but just can’t.

 

“Sugar, what’s wrong?” Her “professional” voice falls away immediately, and he can just picture her clutching her chest, holding a finger up to a customer to wait.

 

“I just woke up feeling pretty ill, I think it might be dust upsetting my asthma. The construction.” Their apartment building is probably the only thing that’s older than 5 years in this neighborhood, with the city building and destroying and rebuilding – like that might liven up the area. The whole area for about 20 miles is dusty and loud. It’s a real excuse, and idly Steve prays that he won’t get hit by karma and actually end up with dust in his lungs. He hasn’t seen a doctor since he was a kid, and the clinic only takes Medicaid which they’ve tried applying for but never get.

 

“Ah,” Sherry sighs knowingly. “Okay, honey, rest up and if you don’t feel better by tonight, call Tony and tell her _I_ said she needs to cover your shift tomorrow. But only if you don’t feel like you’ll make it tomorrow either.” Steve nods even though she can’t see it, and Bucky grins, finally having gathered himself.

 

“Course, thank you Sherry.”

 

“No problem, tell that boyfriend of yours to get you some soup or something. He can come down to the store and dent a can if y’all need it.” By that she means she’ll load Bucky down with “damaged” soups and drinks and chips. To the poor working class, food is all you need to get better – a good can of soup could probably cure cancer, if you were poor enough to hope it would.

 

“Thanks again, Sher. I’m just gonna sleep most of the day.”

 

“Okay, well rest up. See you tomorrow hopefully!” Then she hangs up on him, and Steve tosses his phone back to the bedside table before launching himself on top of Bucky.

 

“She bought it?” Bucky asks, hands massaging Steve’s bony hips. One of his hands slips up under Steve’s soft, worn t-shirt to caress his stomach and waist.

 

“Yep.” Steve leans down to kiss him before pulling back to sit fully on his lap. “I do feel bad lying to her though.”

 

“Course you do, because you’re a good guy.” Bucky pulls himself up and sits propped against the headboard, grabbing Steve’s hands and entwining them with his. “But sometimes you gotta lie, and it’s not like you’re hurtin’ anyone. Tony or Aditi or Queen will get more hours, and I get a day with my baby doll.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Steve complains, even as he blushes. “What are we, in the 40’s?”

 

“Come on, give me some sugar.” Bucky makes big exaggerated kissy faces at him, and Steve cackles. He slaps Bucky’s chest, their hands falling apart from each other.

 

“Not when you ask for it like that you creep.”

 

“Aww, baby-“

 

Steve shuts him up with his mouth, cradling Bucky’s head in both hands as the kiss deepens. All jokes aside, they haven’t had any time together recently with Steve working as many hours as Sherry could give him and Bucky getting a new job. If their schedules coincide, which happens rarely, they’re usually too tired to do much more than sleep or watch T.V. Steve’s body _misses_ Bucky.

 

Bucky runs both his hands up Steve’s back, their chests pushing together as Steve’s back arches. His shirt is pushed up almost to his armpits so he pulls back and tears it off, Bucky’s eyes on him as he does so making him hard and hungry for more. He strokes down Bucky’s neck to the collar of his shirt, and pulls at it. “Take this off.”

 

Bucky’s quick to comply, hooking a hand in the back and pulling it straight off like beautiful men in commercials do. It looks sexy on Bucky, like a mini strip tease right before Steve’s eyes, though he’s never been able to accomplish the same effect. He just gets stuck, or trips, or looks like the big gangly dork that he is.

 

“God, Buck.”  Steve can’t help but run his hands all over his boyfriend’s chest, marveling at how just a couple weeks of construction work has changed him. He’s not built or anything, but there’s an obvious tension to his muscles, a tightness to his abs and shoulders that was there before but is more defined. He’s beautiful, and next to him Steve feels small and pale. Sometimes he has to carry heavy boxes at work, but it doesn’t do much for defining his muscles.

 

“Come ‘ere.” Bucky commands, quietly and seriously. Steve shifts forward so he’s sitting directly in Bucky’s lap, and wraps one of his arms around his boyfriend’s neck. “What’cha want, Stevie?”

 

Steve thinks on it for a minute, taking in the long soft strokes of Bucky’s hands up and down his spine while he thinks. Sometimes they have time for quick handjobs or in energized nights mutual blowjobs, but they haven’t actually made love in months. It occurs to him sharply that the last time might have been his birthday, more than two months ago on Independence Day.

 

“Want you to fuck me.” Steve whispers, kissing Bucky’s jawline and rubbing down on his thin pajama pants when a moan escapes. “Come on, Buck. Been forever.”

 

“O-okay. Get this off.” Bucky hurriedly pulls at Steve’s pants, and then his own, trying to get them both off simultaneously and failing. Steve places a steadying hand on Bucky’s shoulder, telling him to slow down with a gentle, lingering kiss.

 

“No rush, Buck. We got all day.” Steve rolls back so he can kick off his pants without Bucky’s being in his way. Then he helps Bucky get his off too, and blissfully climbs back into Bucky’s lap – god they haven’t been able to be so relaxed, so openly naked in forever.

 

Bucky rolls them so Steve is underneath him, and grinds their hips together slowly but firmly. The pressure on his dick is intense, and Steve clutches at Bucky’s shoulders, nails digging in and leaving pink little crescent marks.

 

“Love you, Stevie.” Bucky murmurs, suckling on Steve’s earlobe before pressing kisses all the way down his neck and shoulder. Steve, or Bucky, or both of them – who knows – has started leaking pre-cum enough that the slide of their hips is smooth and easy. Moans, and occasionally a low husky groan, cloud the air between their bodies – sweat from a hot late September day building up too.

 

“Love you more, Buck.” Steve whispers, voice rough and husky even as a shaky moan rolls up from his chest. “Come on, get the lube.”

 

Bucky rolls off of him and goes to the bedside table on his side, pulling open the drawer and digging around in it. He holds up a condom, which they only use for quick clean up since they were and are each other’s only sexual partners. Most Bucky ever did before they got together in high school was finger a girl. Steve shakes his head.

 

“We got time.”

 

Finally, Bucky comes back, tossing the bottle of lube next to Steve’s head and coming back for more kissing. The fact that neither of them have to go to work, or catch the bus, or get dressed gives Steve heady arousal and he hugs Bucky to him tightly. They have time to make out, they don’t have to rush-job this.

 

After awhile, Steve runs his nails down Bucky’s back one more time and then pushes him away to scramble for the bottle that’s migrated to underneath his neck. He hands it to Bucky and props himself up on a pillow. “Okay?” Bucky asks, and Steve nods when he’s settled in the easiest position. He’s had a lot of issues with his spine in his life, and his pelvis too for that fact, but Bucky’s always been patient.

 

                  Bucky suckles on the leaking head of his dick gently, and massages lube onto his rim. Then he flicks his tongue under Steve’s foreskin, which he goddamn knows makes his head explode – and causes Steve to flail up into the air, nails tight on Bucky’s shoulders. Simultaneously, Bucky pushes in one finger while Steve is distracted with pleasure, exploring gently as Steve opens up. He’s tight as a virgin after months of nothing, but it’s only a minor ache and burn, nothing he can’t handle.

 

                  “Come on, Buck, I’m ready.” Steve whines, pressing his thigh to the side of his boyfriend’s head, trying to urge him off the blowjob and towards the fucking. Bucky ignores him and wraps his unoccupied hand around Steve’s tiny thigh and clutches at the skin as he shoves a second finger inside.

 

                  A high-pitched keen bubbles out of Steve’s chest. Two fingers hurt a little more, and thankfully Bucky seems to realize because he pulls them out and adds more lube. The slide after that is smoother, though it still aches.

 

                  By the time Bucky’s deemed him ready, and driven Steve absolutely insane with his longest blowjob in months, Steve’s purple and aching for release. Bucky pulls his fingers out and repositions Steve on the pillow which eases pain Steve hadn’t even noticed he’d had.

 

                  “Good?” Bucky asks, lining the head up with Steve’s hole.

 

                  “Yeah.” Steve murmurs, pulling at Bucky’s shoulders till he drapes over him like a curtain. “Want you, Buck.” Bucky’s warm and heavy, and as he pushes inside, Steve clings to him tightly. Legs around his waist, arms around his neck, there’s no space between them when Bucky thrusts in for the first time.

 

                  The slow press is delicious, and intense, and well-deserved for them both – soothing the yearning that Steve’s had for months. It’s like heat to sore muscles, every thrust relaxing Steve’s body and mind till he’s drooling against Bucky’s shoulder idly and whining for more.

 

                  He’s a whiny bottom, he’ll admit that readily, but Bucky’s a tease of a top. He thrusts just the head inside with gentle, barely-there pulses, and won’t do more no matter how Steve begs.

 

                  “Buck, please, don’t tease me.” Steve groans, trying to use his thighs to push Bucky further inside. The efforts are fruitless, Bucky’s like a brick wall. “Baby, _please.”_

                  That gets him more than any other beg, Bucky’s always been weak for pet names. If Steve lets a “honey” drop from his lips, Bucky turns to putty in his hands.

 

                  In this case, Bucky finally thrusts all the way in and strokes along one particularly sensitive part deep inside. Steve shakes, keening tightly into Bucky’s neck. He’s so close, he feels like he’s a penny spinning on its side, ready to fall over and inevitable. Steve’s dick is jammed between their bodies, spurting thick pre cum out onto Bucky’s abdomen as his body tightens and curls up. He’s going to cum, and he tells Bucky so in the rough grip of his hair, the unintelligible moans and shaking thighs.

 

                  “Buck, buck, baby, please.” Steve begs as Bucky thrusts harder, hips banging against Steve’s ass rough and dirty. Steve can’t help but revel in it, in the smell of sweat, and the sensation of Bucky’s balls hitting his ass when he goes really deep, in the bites Bucky leaves on his shoulder and nipple. It’s rough, and masculine, and perfect because they haven’t had time for anything even resembling this – and Steve needs it.

 

                  Bucky hits his prostate on every other thrust at least, and squeezes his hand between them to jack Steve’s dick quickly. It’s too much, it always is – the combination of sensations drags his brain left and right until it doesn’t know where to go or what to focus on it, it just wants more. He’s practically brainless by the time his abdomen scrunches up and orgasm rips through him, moaning mouth opened on Bucky’s shoulder with a deep red flush on his cheeks and neck. Bucky is no better, barely pulling out before pushing back in, thrusting harder than he has all morning and grunting like it’s a workout.

 

                  When Bucky finally comes, he drives himself deep inside and shakes hard on top of Steve like a dog shaking off rain. The groan he buries in Steve’s neck is so filthy and husky, it almost makes Steve want to go another round right away. Valiantly his dick even tries to harden once more, but he can’t quite do it.

 

                  All the pent up frustration and tension from two months mostly celibate have drained away and lay smeared against his stomach, and in Bucky’s case, inside Steve.

 

                  “Wow.” Steve gasps when Bucky rolls off him to lay mostly on his side, head on Steve’s chest. One hand lays atop Steve’s stomach gently playing with the soft skin under his belly button.

 

                  “Ditto.” Bucky laughs, voice hoarse. “We should do that more often.”

 

                  Steve can only laugh and laugh, overcome by post-orgasm giggles. (Which he’s known to do almost every time.)

 

                  They lay there for awhile longer, comfortable and languid, touching gently and casually now that the urgency has bled away. Bucky tells him a story about work yesterday that he hadn’t had time to last night, and Steve tells him about a brief half-forgotten nightmare he’d had. It’s nice to just lay there for awhile, relax together with no responsibilities.

 

                  “You wanna go for a drive? Head out of the city?” Bucky asks when they wake up from a brief, unplanned nap.

 

                  “Sure.” Steve nods, kissing Bucky’s clavicle and rolling out of bed. “Starbucks?”

 

                  “Course,” Bucky smiles, even though he knows they don’t really have the money to indulge in coffee that’s not sludge. Today is not the day to worry about money, maybe tomorrow. (Probably not then either.)

 

                  ---------

 

                  Getting out of the city isn’t easy by any standards, but it is moderately easier because it’s a weekday and people are generally still at work. By the time they’ve gotten out though, they’re able to get onto a highway that’s basically empty and just cruise.

 

They play Bucky’s old jazz CD’s and a couple mix tapes from friends. Natasha’s is their favorite, with an interesting mix of this decade’s pop hits and Russian metal. Sam’s has Motown on it, and that’s nice too though it nearly lulls Steve to sleep. He’s always a bad roadtrip passenger because he falls asleep so easily in cars.

 

Bucky drives one-handed, the other entwined with Steve’s on the center dash. It’s easy, and mostly quiet besides pointing out and laughing at the Jesus billboards and other funny things. Steve sips at his Frappuccino and ignores how much it cost. Bucky drinks a hot cup of drip coffee with lots of sugar packets (which they have a ton more of in the back seat that they took).

 

They stop for a couple burgers around one o’clock, and eat them in the car people-watching. They see a tourist-y couple fight over the receipt, and a sad looking teenager eat a McFlurry in his car before driving away. There is also an RV which is interesting, because it has the name McCall written on the side and almost 12 people get out.

 

When they head home it’s almost 3 o’clock, and it’s raining in the city. It’s so hard they’re forced to run from the parking garage of their apartment building to the front door, and by then they’re soaked.

 

They warm each other up though, and all is good.

 

**Author's Note:**

> yoooo please comment!! also come chat with me @starspangledsteve on tumblr.


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